


"WICKED IS GOOD"

by Tay123098



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner, maze runner
Genre: Blood, Character Death, Multi, Stabbing, knife, maze, robotic voice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:25:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tay123098/pseuds/Tay123098
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Minho starts his daily run out into the maze but comes across his best friend Thomas, who had been banished the night before. An encounter with Thomas, Ben and a Griever, sets Minho up for a rough day especially when he's been stabbed and is bleeding out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"WICKED IS GOOD"

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I Do Not own the maze runner. This is simply my idea for a little spin off of it. All credit goes to James Dashner for creating the amazing series and this is a spin of my own. Hope you like it!

With sweat pouring down his face, Minho ran, and he ran. Minho, being a runner means he's in top condition. But, he's also the keeper of the runners, meaning he's the best of the best, the one who always has the quickest solution and the one that makes the most sense. So, now that his best friend has been banished, and everyone thought he was dead, Minho finds him down a corridor in the maze. 

Thomas is caked in blood, his body swollen, his eyes red and bloodshot, the pupils dilated so the blue of his iris' are barely visible. But, wouldn't you think his friend would be running towards him, maybe to embrace him in a warm hug, or give him a slap on the back and congratulate him for surviving a night in the maze once again? No, Minho is running away from Thomas. 

_As Minho rounded a corner and spotted his friend down the corridor, his first thought was fright, then he relaxed and relief washed over him._

_'Thomas is alive, he's alive' he thought.  But that split second of relief didn't last long. To be honest, when does anything good last long when your dealing with WICKED. As he slowly crept closer to Thomas, Minho could hear him speaking.  But, it wasn't necessarily the sound he was expecting from his friend. A rough edged sound escaped Thomas' parted lips. A low groaning sort of noise then a robotic crackle sounded, like a speaker turning on as someone tries to speak into an intercom._

_"WICKED is good," then a long pause sounded before the odd voice sounded again from within Thomas. "WICKED is good. Be warned, the end is coming,  WICKED is good." Then the voice cut out and Thomas dropped to the ground,  blood spilling from an unseen wound, one that wasn't there ten seconds earlier._

_As Minho approached Thomas, a Griever came around the corner, in the middle of the day. There was no time to think, only act. Minho ran forward, gripping Thomas' arms only to he met with a hand clamping down on his. Minho looked terrified as he peered down at Thomas, but it wasn't Thomas' hand holding his down, and Grievers don't have hands. This was Ben's..._

_Ben, another Glader who was banished after having tried to kill Thomas when his mind was gone after being stung by a Griever. The Ben who everyone was sure to be dead.  The loop of the rope being returned back to the front door of the walls at the West Exit,  from where they had banished Ben, nearly a week ago. How could he be back now?_

_Ben had a death grip on Minho, his hand nearly crushing Minho's in a simple effort as if he wasn't even trying. Minho tried to yank his hand away, coughing as he tried to speak._

_"Ben! Ben, let go of me! I'm trying to help Thomas." Minho croaked out, his voice a hoarse whisper, mixed with fear. Ben only stared blankly at Minho, and it was then that the Asian boy noticed Ben's blank eyes. They held no color,  only a dull white around the edges and pupils that had taken over the rest of his eyes. Then, Ben released his grip on Minho's arm. Minho fell backward, not expecting such a simple release when he'd been pulling to get away. As Minho lay on the ground, scrambling to get up from his vulnerable position, Ben leaped at Minho,  standing over the Keeper of Runners. Minho stared up in disbelief,  there was no way this was the Ben he'd been friends with back in the Glade.  Now, as Minho watched his former friend hover over him with an intense glare in his dark, unnatural eyes, Ben spoke._

_" Get out of here, Minho, don't make me hurt you, I will if it means protecting WICKED. WICKED is good, Minho. Remember that..." He trailed, his voice rough like it had been a long time since he'd spoken to anyone. Minho shook his head frantically,  finally gathering the courage to speak up._

_"I...I have to get Thomas, bring him back to the Glade. Newt, Chuck, someone will help him." Minho said as he slowly backed up, trying to move away from Ben so that he could stand. Ben just blocked any way that he tried to move._

_"Go, leave the Greenie, I'll watch over him." He hissed, his lips barely parted as he spoke, hissing through his gritted teeth._

_Minho didn't believe Ben,  how could he? Not after the way he'd treated Thomas back in the Glade in the Deadheads when he'd tried to kill Thomas. Now he's just supposed to trust this Griever stung freak with his best friends life? 'Yeah, right' Minho thought. When a low growl sounded from Ben,  and Ben's hand came and connected with Minho's jaw, Minho fell back. He scrambled to his feet,  nearly losing his footing but he managed to right himself as he held onto the ivy covered wall with one hand._

_Thomas sat up then, blood still pouring from that unknown wound that worried Minho more than he could describe.  As Thomas made his way to his feet,  Minho took a step closer. That one small step was a mistake as Thomas charged at his friend, a knife in hand. Where the knife came from, Minho had no idea but he had no time to question it. As Minho turned to run away from his friend,  he felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder, luckily a place that wouldn't mortally wound the Keeper of The Runners if attended to quickly.  Minho ignored the spreading pain that felt like a fire eating away at his insides and he ran down the corridor of the maze,  back the way he'd come._

_Minho rounded corner after corner, breathing heavily as he tried to ignore the pain in his shoulder. Although running certainly wasn't the best way to keep the pain in check. Every step Minho took, his shoulder moved, blood sliding down his shoulder and soaking and staining the light tan colored shirt a dark red until it nearly turned black as the blood caked on more and more. Minho stopped for about thirty seconds to yank his water from his pack but he drank it as he ran._

_The more blood Minho lost, the weaker he got. He began to stumble along, tripping over small rocks that hadn't tripped him up in the two years he'd been here. Each step was excruciating,  the pain in his shoulder unimaginable.  However the pain was spreading. Every part of his body ached,  a burning feeling ripping through him as he fought to stay conscious as he ran. Running was a part of him._

And so he ran. Minho ran and ran until he met a dead end in the wall. The walls...they were changing in the middle of the day.  This isn't supposed to happen. As Minho looked up at the walls he noticed a difference. A few minutes ago he was in Section 8 as he was supposed to be, now he was in Section 6. The boy couldn't run anymore. He had met his end. A tragic death, a death that wasn't supposed to happen. What would his friends think? Newt, Chuck, Alby, everyone, would they miss him? Would they think about the poor guy who was killed out in the Maze, or would they just be glad it's not them? The latter is more than likely. Most of the guys in the Glade would rather hide behind another friend than spare their friend and take the bullet themselves. Most Gladers were selfish like that, the ones like Gally. The rare exceptions were those like Thomas and Chuck. But Thomas,  Minho didn't even want to think about Thomas.  What had happened to his friend?

As Minho's eyes began to droop closed, his heartbeat stuttering then slowing with each passing beat, a final thought crossed Minho's mind. A thought that he would have never thought himself, not on his own free will. It's like his death was planned,  something scheduled.  Minho's head leaned back against the wall as his eyes closed for good, that one thought bouncing around in his mind. 

"WICKED is good."


End file.
